In four hours, we'll be on a 22-hour flight back home. That's across 3 continents, about 2 oceans and 12 time-zones. On the plane, that also means 5 bad movies, 5 even worse airline meals (complete with the ubiquitous sponge masquerading as a muffin/ cupcake/ dinner roll and a generic brown/ red sauce that goes over all the entrees) and endless encounters with strange people I would otherwise not speak to if I weren't tens of thousands of feet above ground. I don't like flights. I get claustrophobic, I always want to go to the bathroom, and I'm never able to sleep well. The one thing I am grateful for is that Jude's coming home with me this time round. When I travelled on my own last year, I was stuck next to a 60-year old Scandinavian man who's entire vocabulary of English consisted only of names of bars in Detroit and just enough words to order food... Suffice to say he was not the most scintillating of travelling companions.
Anyways, the next time we write, we'll be sweltering in 90 degree (34C) weather and 98% humidity. God bless my pores...
No comments:
Post a Comment